


An Adrienette Anthology

by tptplayer5701



Series: "Mind Games"-verse [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Class redemption, Dragon Kagami Tsurugi | Ryuko, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lila Rossi Bashing, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Music, Musicians, Nightmares, Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701
Summary: The title for this Anthology isn’t about Love Square fluff or anything like that; at this point in my stories, they already know each other's identities The title is a reference to the fact that the one factor uniting all of these stories is Marinette and Adrien.This is a collection of one-shots focusing on different events in Adrien and Marinette's relationship, starting after"Running out of Time". A lot of other characters show up in later chapters, including Kagami, Luka, Lila...
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Nora Césaire, Juleka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain
Series: "Mind Games"-verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666807
Comments: 47
Kudos: 120





	1. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette try to deal with everything they experienced in the dystopian 2039. Also, Tom and Adrien have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place a couple hours after the [Epilogue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611723/chapters/57388423) of "Running out of Time."

“Well, good night, my Prince.”

“Good night, Princess,” Adrien replied, bending over slightly to place a chaste kiss on Marinette’s lips. He could feel her father’s eyes on them from across the living room, though M. Dupain was making a big show of focusing on the kitchen where Mme Cheng was getting the next morning’s breakfast prepared and studiously ignoring the scene in front of Adrien’s bedroom door.

Marinette pulled back quickly, her nose crinkling as she smiled up at him. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, so soft that only she could hear. He smiled at her and sighed.

She raced up the stairs, calling behind her, “I’ll see you in the morning!”

Adrien watched her until she was out of sight before stepping back into his room and starting to close the door. Before he’d fully shut the door, however, a massive hand grabbed the edge of the door and M. Dupain stuck his head in. “May I come in, Adrien?”

Adrien gulped nervously. Mme Cheng had spent half the evening fawning over him, and Marinette hadn’t left his side since their return from their adventure in an alternate future 2039. M. Dupain, however, had been uncharacteristically silent through the meal, only occasionally glancing across the table to where Marinette had snuggled up to Adrien as closely as their chairs permitted.

“Of course, sir,” Adrien said, opening the door and stepping back. M. Dupain followed him into the room, his face absent its usual good humor. Adrien leaned against the dresser nervously while M. Dupain stood a meter away looking at him pensively.

Suddenly, M. Dupain stepped forward. Adrien barely had time to register the movement before he had been pulled into an enormous bear hug. His breath was forced out of his lungs, and he stood frozen, his arms dangling uselessly at his side, for a long minute before he awkwardly reached up and patted M. Dupain on the back.

M. Dupain stepped back and put his hands on Adrien’s shoulders, examining his face closely. Adrien tried to meet his gaze as steadily as he could, though he found himself desperately fighting back the urge to blink. At last M. Dupain let his hands drop to his sides and took a step back.

“Thank you,” he said, the intensity in his eyes nearly causing Adrien’s own to water.

“For what?” Adrien asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“For…” M. Dupain paused and seemed to reconsider his words. “For… _respecting_ Marinette’s wishes last week. I know this week has been difficult for you – for both of you, I mean. I’m glad to see you both together again and that you’re both in one piece.”

Adrien’s eyes widened slightly at that, and he could swear M. Dupain’s lip twitched the tiniest bit. “Absolutely,” he answered hesitantly. He tried to pick his words carefully. “I’ll… I’ll always… um… _respect_ her. I would never let anyone… _dis_ respect her… sir…”

“I’m glad to hear it, son,” M. Dupain told him, smiling, an approving look in his eyes. He patted Adrien on the shoulder, so hard his knees nearly buckled. “16 years now I’ve… _respected_ my daughter, but I know I can’t always be there for her. I’m glad she has you when I can’t be there.”

“Of course, sir,” Adrien promised. “I will always be there for her.”

“I know you will.” M. Dupain nodded and glanced at the alarm clock on Adrien’s nightstand. “Well, it’s getting late and it’s a school night, so I will leave you to it. Good night, son.”

“Good night, sir.”

As Adrien closed the door after him, he chuckled ruefully. Plagg phased out of his drawer in Adrien’s nightstand, doubled over and laughing silently. “I don’t see why _you’re_ enjoying this so much,” Adrien muttered.

“Kid,” he replied, “I’ve been doing this a _long_ time, and _I_ can’t remember the last time I had this much fun with your secrets. Besides, now you can give him my suggestion for camembert macaroons without feeling weird.”

“I would still feel weird,” Adrien retorted. He made a face. “Besides, that sounds disgusting!”

Plagg’s mouth fell open in mock horror. “Why, I’ve never heard my beloved cheese be so rudely insulted! In fact, the last time someone insulted cheese in my presence, I was visiting Pompeii! Now if you will excuse me, I think I hear a finely-aged cheddar calling my name.”

After brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas, Adrien got into bed, turned off the lights, and tried to fall asleep. He could hear a low rumble from his nightstand drawer where Plagg was purring away. Adrien, however, could not calm his mind enough to sleep, despite the nightstand’s soothing vibration. He rolled over and over. He stared at the alarm clock, watching the numbers change. He closed his eyes, only to be assaulted by the sight of Marinette lying unmoving in a crumpled heap amidst the wreckage and debris of a destroyed Agreste Mansion. The image changed then to Marinette sitting in a wheelchair and turning away from him, dejected.

Adrien’s eyes shot open again and he stared at the ceiling. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he studied the lines in the plaster, allowing them to form into shapes in his sleep-deprived mind. But all of the shapes reminded him of Ladybug’s spots, of the future-Marinette who was stabbed in the gut with a magical sword.

After he’d been lying awake in bed for what felt like an hour, Adrien heard a soft tapping on his bedroom door. He immediately turned on the lamp, threw the sheets off, got out of bed, walked over, and pulled it open. He gasped at seeing Marinette standing there in her pajamas, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and biting her lower lip, a troubled expression on her face.

“Um, hi,” she said awkwardly, looking at his feet and carefully avoiding making eye contact.

“What’s wrong? You couldn’t sleep, either?”

“Yeah…” Marinette sighed and hugged herself tighter. “I just can’t stop thinking about–”

“You dying and me going insane with grief?” Adrien supplied. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, holding the door open with the other. “I know; I can’t forget it, either. And when it’s not that, it’s the image of you crumpled up on the ground and not being sure if you’re alive or dead.”

“I just…” Marinette suddenly threw herself into Adrien’s chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Adrien felt her whole body shaking, though his shirt muffled the sound of her sobs. Her tears fell hard and fast, soaking through the shirt. He wrapped her up in his own arms, placing one hand on her back and stroking her hair with the other.

“Shh…” he soothed. “It’s okay, Princess. I promise, I will never let anything happen to you.”

Marinette looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m not worried for _myself_ ,” she sobbed. She started panting, eyes wide, and continued. “What if something happened to _you_? I dreamed that _you_ were the one who got thrown across the room, that _you_ broke your back, and that I couldn’t do anything to save you! You are always throwing yourself into danger, always taking the hits for me. What if, one of these times, it’s one time too many? What if our luck runs out? What if it’s _you_ who gets killed when it should have been _me_? What if I’m left all alone to go on by myself?”

Adrien guided Marinette over to the bed and sat down. She immediately sat next to him, pulled her legs up onto the bed next to her, and wrapped her arms as tightly around his chest as if she thought he was going to disappear. He pulled her close and rested his cheek on top of her head. As he rubbed her back and kissed her hair, her breathing slowed and panic subsided. “I don’t know what will happen,” he finally told her. “Being heroes isn’t exactly _safe_! I know that I would do absolutely anything to keep you safe. I know you would do the same. I know if one of us was hurt, the other would keep them safe. I don’t want to die on you, but if it had to happen, I realized this summer that I would only want it to happen while I’m protecting you.”

Marinette’s breathing hitched and she squeezed him so tight it hurt.

Adrien squeezed her back gently and continued, “But I promise you this: I love you enough to die for you, but I also love you enough to live for you, too.”

Marinette pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes, poked him in the chest, and said firmly, “I’m holding you to that promise, Cat.”

“Of course, Milady,” he purred, causing her to blush. His grin melted into a smile. “Is this what you needed? Do you feel better now?”

“I do,” she said, easing her death grip on his chest. He grinned and wagged an eyebrow at her, so she punched him in the shoulder, but she made no move to stand up or let go of him. “At least a little. Of course, as nice as the talk was, it’s only part of the reason I came down.”

“Oh? And why else did you come, Milady? Missing me already?”

Marinette smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “I realized that you weren’t awake when I got in your sleeping bag last night,” she told him mischievously. “But that really helped me sleep then, and maybe it will help us both again now. So… do you want to remember falling asleep together tonight?”

“What about your parents?”

“We’re only sleeping.” Marinette glared at him, and he nodded, wide-eyed. “And Tikki will wake us up when Papa’s downstairs getting the bakery ready so I can sneak back to my own room. So…”

“Your wish is my command, Milady,” Adrien assured her, kissing her on the forehead. “This sounds like a purr-fect way to fall asleep!” He lay back on the bed and gently drew her down next to him before throwing the sheets over them both, wrapping his arms around her, and turning off the lamp.

Even with Tikki’s early wake-up, Adrien slept better than he had in a week.


	2. The Dragon and the Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien wants Marinette to give Kagami a chance. But the fencer and the fashion designer have nothing in common... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After watching the second half of season 3, “Ikari Gozen” was actually one of my favorite episodes because of how naturally the friendship develops between Marinette and Kagami. Unfortunately, “Milady” deviates from the series canon before that episode (otherwise Kagami would have been among the heroes in the final Hawk Moth battle instead of being recruited a month later). Consequently, this story is my attempt at a version of that episode, at least as far as the Marinette/Kagami friendship goes. At this point, Ladybug and Cat Noir already recruited her as Ryoku, so she doesn’t get a miraculous here. In “Running out of Time” chapter 1, however, she recognized Cat Noir’s fighting style and figured out their identities from that.

“Please, Marinette? I know that if you just get to know her you’ll really like her.”

Marinette sighed as she packed up her books and moved down the steps to join Adrien by the door. She had been looking forward to hanging out with Alya, Alix, Rose, Juleka, and Mylène that afternoon. Sabrina and Chloe were even planning to meet them at the mall to go shopping with the girls. She didn’t want to give that up for anything, let alone to watch Adrien’s fencing practice and then hang out with the “Ice Queen,” Kagami. Unfortunately, Marinette had yet to learn how to resist that pleading look on Adrien’s face. “Oh, fine,” she grumbled. “If it means that much to you for me to get to know Kagami, I will at least give it a try. But I still don’t understand why you decided to continue fencing now that your father isn’t here to force you into it.”

“You didn’t seem to mind my fencing skills when I used them against my father on Heroes Day, or at the mansion when I saved you, _or_ when we actually defeated him,” Adrien pointed out, raising an eyebrow at her. Marinette was grateful that the halls were largely deserted, with only Max and Kim still anywhere near them. “Or Darkblade. Or either of the times Kagami was Akumatized. Or fighting my future self. Or–”

She poked him in the ribs. “Okay, you made your point.”

“Of course, I think I’m getting to be more comfortable fighting with bokken than foils or epees anymore; the balance on the swords is all wrong after using my staff so often,” Adrien continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. He pushed the gymnasium door open and stepped aside to let Marinette precede him into the room. “To be honest, I think making me learn to fence might have been the best think Father ever did for me,” he observed, grimacing. “Not that it’s a high bar…”

A few minutes later, Marinette was seated comfortably in the bleachers, watching as the fencing team finished putting on their protective gear and warming up. Marinette’s eye was immediately drawn away from Adrien to the brilliant red outfit that Kagami always wore. As she and Adrien acknowledged each other, bowed, and began their sparring match, Marinette stared transfixed at the whirl of red and white. They moved back and forth, lunging and parrying and leaping aside to evade the other’s blades. As their match continued, Marinette pulled her sketchpad out of her backpack and began to draw.

* * *

“Marinette?”

“Hmm?” Marinette didn’t look up from the sketchpad where she was putting the final touches on a dress design.

“Are you coming with us? Getting ice cream with Kagami, remember?” Adrien asked. He tapped her forehead gently with a finger.

“Is your practice over already?” Marinette asked, flipping the pad closed and sliding it back into her backpack. She looked up to see Adrien and Kagami, both back in their regular cloths, standing in the row in front of her and staring at her.

“Yeah, it’s been an hour and a half,” Adrien answered, grinning in amusement. “Practice finished 30 minutes ago, and then our last match went another 15, and then we got changed. So… what did you think?”

“I… thought it was really nice,” Marinette replied, trying not to wince.

“Really?” Adrien teased. “Who won the most matches?”

“Um… Kagami?”

“Okay, that was an easy one.” Adrien smirked. “But who won the last one?”

“Um… you?”

“Adrien, I do not think she was actually paying any attention,” Kagami announced, arching an eyebrow at Marinette. “Clearly there was something else more important to her.”

“Ugh, fine!” Marinette threw her arms up. “I know I tried fencing last year, but I just could never get into it. It’s exciting to watch, and I really did watch your first few rounds, but then I… kinda got inspired and had to put my new dress design on paper before I lost it,” she admitted. She stood up and started climbing down the bleachers to follow Adrien and Kagami. As she reached the floor, Adrien took her hand, interlacing their fingers, and led the way out of the school, with Kagami on his other side.

“Really?” Kagami asked. “You were inspired to design a dress while watching us fence?”

“Actually,” Marinette began, her cheeks staring to flush, “it was watching _you_ fence.”

“Me?” Kagami looked startled and her eyebrows rose as she leaned forward to look around Adrien at Marinette.

“Well, specifically the brilliant red of your outfit,” she explained. “Swirling around against the white and silver of Adrien’s gear as you dueled.”

“Everyone always questions why I wear red instead of the more traditional white,” Kagami observed.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Adrien interjected, leading the way down the school steps and turning toward the Seine.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Marinette asked, giving him a look. “Red is the color of strength in Japanese culture.”

“Whereas white is associated more with mourning and death,” Kagami added. She gave Marinette an appraising look, which Marinette returned with a small smile. Kagami looked back at Adrien and asked, “So which color do you think I would prefer to wear while fighting?”

“Huh,” Adrien said. “I thought you just wanted to stand out! But you’re wearing white right now…”

“White isn’t _just_ a symbol for death and mourning, silly,” Marinette told him, elbowing him in the ribs. “It can also symbolize truth and purity.”

“And sometimes I just wear whatever I want,” Kagami admitted. “But fencing? I’ll take every advantage I can get!”

“So is it the same in Chinese culture?” Adrien asked.

“For white it’s similar,” Marinette answered, “but in Chinese culture red is associated more with luck than strength. That’s part of why Chinese brides traditionally wear red instead of white – that and because white is usually worn to funerals!”

“I suppose Ryoku and Ladybug are both wearing the right color then!” Kagami said, arching an eyebrow at Marinette and quirking her lips into a tiny smile. Marinette simply returned the smile serenely. “I didn’t realize you were so well versed in color symbolism, Marinette.”

Marinette giggled. “I have to know it,” she explained. “Could you imagine if I tried to sell a _white wedding dress_ in China or Japan?”

“Your brand and name would be dishonored for eternity among the most traditional circles, and you would never again be able to display your wares proudly in Japan!” Kagami declared dramatically.

Marinette shuddered. “If I did something like that, I think my mother’s family would disown me! They’re really traditional that way. And I really want my designs to make it in China; I absolutely love Chinese fashion.”

“Is that what you were designing this afternoon?” Kagami asked. “A Chinese dress?”

“Actually, no,” Marinette answered. She found an empty bench by the river and sat down. “I decided to go with a kimono, instead of a cheongsam. Would you like to see it?”

“Absolutely!” Kagami said eagerly, shoving Adrien out of the way just as he was about to sit next to her.

“Well, I’ll go and get the ice cream, I guess,” Adrien mumbled, shaking his head ruefully as he walked toward André’s ice cream cart.

Marinette pulled out her sketchpad and flipped to the last drawing she had done. She held it up for Kagami to see, and she almost grabbed it out of Marinette’s hands in her excitement.

“This… this is incredible, Marinette,” Kagami finally said, her eyes never leaving the drawing. “I love the patterns and interplay of colors. Red, but not too much red. A little white to highlight, but not so much as to overpower. Silver flashes… Are you actually going to make this?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette answered, shrugging. “I was thinking about bringing it to my mentor at Agreste to see what she thinks, but I hadn’t really given it much thought. Why?”

“It’s just…” Kagami hesitated. “My mother is making me go to a gala at the Japanese embassy next month with her, but none of the clothes I already have feel right for the occasion. She says I must look perfect, as I represent the Tsurugi name, and I do not wish to bring her dishonor.”

“And if you’re wearing the latest, never-before-seen dress from Agreste’s Asian line, it may appease her?” Marinette smiled.

“‘Agreste’…” Kagami began, her cheeks turning pink, “or even ‘Marinette’ brand. If you wish, I mean. I realize we are not the closest of friends, Marinette.”

“Perhaps we are not,” Marinette admitted, “but I think I would like to be. I’d love for you to wear my dress to your gala! But we’ve got a lot of work to do first.” Marinette stood up, locked her arm with Kagami’s, and steered her in the direction of the bakery. “First, we need to get your measurements, and then we’ll need to find the right fabric. I’m thinking silk, but if that’s too much trouble or expense–”

“Expense is no problem,” Kagami assured her. “And our maid is well-versed in caring for silks.”

“Wonderful! Then there’s no time like the present to get started! We can grab some pastries from the bakery on the way up to my room. What’s your favorite flavor of macaroons?”

* * *

Adrien returned to the park bench with three ice creams just in time to watch the two girls stand up. Marinette put her arm around Kagami’s shoulder to steer her back toward the bakery. His jaw dropped open as he watched them bantering about fashion and pastries like old friends. _What just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The color symbolism all came from www color-meanings com. If I’m incorrect on anything, let me know and I will rectify it. And I realize that modern Chinese fashion is open to white wedding dresses (or wearing white and red at different times during the celebration) due to Western influence, but we’re going with more of the traditional aesthetic here.
> 
> A kimono is a traditional Japanese dress. A cheongsam is a traditional Chinese dress (at least according to Wikipedia).


	3. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty Section invites Adrien to join again now that he has more time, but he has some... apprehension

Adrien sat at the piano bench in his bedroom, lost in his own world of Mozart. Mozart had been his mother’s favorite composer, and this particular sonata was the one he remembered her playing the most frequently. His hands flew up the keyboard in a scale, and then back down the arpeggio before the piece finished with a series of chords.

As the last notes died away, he jumped at the applause coming from the couch. He turned to smile at Marinette, who was beaming at him. She reached up to wipe a tear from her eye.

“I almost forgot you were here, Princess,” he told her, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I’m not used to playing for an audience.”

She beamed at him. “Thank you for making an exception for me.”

“You’re always the exception, Bugaboo.” He gave her his best Cat Noir smirk and was rewarded by seeing her blush beet red.

“I’m glad you decided to stick with the piano, even though your father can’t force you to do it anymore.”

“I’ve never really minded the piano,” he explained with a shrug, “or at least not since Mother… _disappeared_. She always loved to play piano, and always sat and listened when I practiced. No matter how terrible I sounded, she would clap and tell me it was the most wonderful thing she’d heard – even when I made ‘Ode to Joy’ sound like ‘Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima’! Now, whenever I play the piano, I think about her.”

Marinette moved over to the piano, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and squeezed. “Oh, Kitty,” she whispered.

“Of course, I don’t _just_ think about Mother when I’m playing anymore,” he added, smirking. “The last couple of years I actually used some of my piano practice time to sneak out of the house to see _you_ – with the spots or without them. So… now I think about _you_ when I’m playing piano, too!”

Marinette giggled and poked him in the side. “Flatterer,” she teased.

“Only for you, Milady,” he joked, pulling her down onto the piano bench next to him and wrapping her arms around her tightly. She leaned back slightly and bumped the keys. She winced at the discordant sound, and he grinned.

“You realize it works better when you use your hands to play, right?”

“If I were playing, it wouldn’t make a difference _what_ I play with – hands, feet, nose… It would still sound terrible,” she retorted. “I’d rather listen to _you_ play the piano.”

“Do you prefer my piano over Luka’s guitar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marinette’s cheeks took on a faint pink glow. “O–of course,” she stammered.

Adrien gasped in mock horror. “You _do_ prefer his playing over mine! I knew it!” He put his hand to his forehead. “I have been betrayed!”

Marinette poked him hard in the ribs. “All right, fine, I admit it,” she said. “You are really good, but Luka… he’s on a completely different level.”

“Yeah, he is really good,” Adrien admitted. “He could definitely play professionally if he wanted to. Especially with how well Kitty Section is doing lately.”

“Oh!” Marinette slapped her forehead. “I almost forgot! Luka asked if you wanted to rejoin Kitty Section full-time, now that you don’t have your father controlling your schedule anymore. They still haven’t found a pianist yet – certainly not one better than you!”

Adrien hummed. “You know my father’s only part of the reason I haven’t gone to more rehearsals lately, right?”

“What’s the other reason?” She gave him a confused look.

“Do you remember the last rehearsal I went to?”

“Don’t remind me,” Marinette groaned. “Jagged Stone showed up, and I made a fool of myself saying that you should play guitar for him, and then Desperada showed up and…” She trailed off, staring at him mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, frowning. “Watching you turn to glitter 25,000 times put a serious damper on things.”

“Kitty, I…” Marinette began. She put her hand on his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving you the Snake Miraculous.”

“Some of it’s on me,” he told her, heat rising in his cheeks. “I should have told you I couldn’t do it. But I wanted to impress you. In the end, I guess _I_ made a fool of myself just as badly as you did.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, nuzzling into his neck.

“At least it showed me how important I am – as Cat Noir, I mean – to this team.”

“As if you ever had to doubt it,” Marinette retorted. “Ladybug would be nothing without her Cat Noir. And I would be nothing without you. I will always need you.”

“Thanks, Milady,” he kissed her forehead. “Maybe I will give Kitty Section another shot.”

“You know,” Marinette began, standing up and leading him over to the couch. “I may like Luka’s _music_ , but don’t think for a minute that I would prefer him over you!”

* * *

“I feel a little out of place here,” Adrien muttered to Marinette as they approached the gangplank up to the _Liberty_ , the Couffaines’ houseboat.

“You’ve been here before,” Marinette pointed out, “and they’re all your friends. Why do you feel out of place?”

“I know all of that,” Adrien replied. “It’s just… for all the rock and roll I’ve listened to, I’ve only ever played classical music before, aside from the couple Kitty Section rehearsals I was able to go to. And it felt different then, before Kitty Section started getting more attention. Then it was just messing around with friends; now they’re a big deal. So if I’m going to do this, I want to do it right, only I don’t know if I can.”

“Hi, Marinette! Hi, Adrien!” called Luka, standing at the top of the gangplank. “I’m glad you two could come. Juleka and I were just getting tuned up, so we can start as soon as you’re ready.”

Marinette squeezed Adrien’s hand reassuringly before drifting away to sit next to Mylène to listen to the rehearsal. Adrien watched her pull the sketchpad out of her bag and smiled. Then he went over to set up his keyboard opposite Ivan’s drum set. As he was plugging the cord into the amp, Luka came over to watch.

“You seem nervous,” Luka commented, playing a few notes on his guitar. “Last time you played with us, you sounded like your heart was singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’; today it sounds a lot more like ‘Flight of the Bumblebees’!”

“Well, last time it was because I was getting away from what my Father wanted and doing what _I_ wanted,” Adrien replied, straightening up. “These days, I almost miss having Father’s expectations instead of just my own. But I’m okay. I just – no, you’re right.” He chuckled. “I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. As much fun as it was playing with you guys for the music festival last year, I’m really not a rock pianist. I listen to enough rock and roll, but I never really learned to play it.”

“You know, there’s only one way to learn to play rock and roll,” Luka told him.

“Years and years of lessons with the best private instructors money can buy, all in a desperate attempt to earn my father’s love?” Adrien guessed glumly.

“No way, man!” Luka clapped him on the back. “You’re over-thinking this. The way to learn to play rock and roll is to _play_ it! It’s not about the notes on the page; it’s about the notes in your heart. You gotta _feel_ the music.”

Adrien thought back to his practice session earlier. He had felt the music in his heart. He had played the sonata enough to anticipate everything, for it to become second nature. He could add slight embellishments to make the song his own. He had played it differently for Marinette than he did in practice, because he felt her presence. He looked back at Luka. “I understand that, but I’m so used to the classical style, it feels like I have to retrain my brain to get from there to the rock and roll you guys play.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luka reassured him, returning to his spot. “All the best rockers have to learn the basics – scales, chords, and the like. As long as you have the fundamentals down, you can pick up the rest from there. We’ll start off slow and let you ease into it.”

Adrien tested his keyboard and made a couple adjustments to the sound. When he was satisfied, he looked up at Luka, who was smiling at him patiently.

“Why don’t we start off with something easy for a warm-up,” Luka suggested to the others. “Let’s go with an eight-bar blues in G, and go from there.”

Adrien nodded and smiled as his fingers found the right chords. He relaxed into the easy beat Ivan set, and almost missed the smile Marinette directed at him as they played.

* * *

“So are you glad you came back?” Marinette teased, holding onto his arm with both hands as they descended the gangplank back to the dock.

“You know what? I am.” Adrien smiled at her. “Kitty Section may be on the rise, but they’re still our friends. It’s still just Luka and Juleka and Rose and Ivan. They’re still the same guys I played with last year.”

“I’m glad,” Marinette told him. “With all the stress Agreste puts on you, you need more time to relax and have _fun_.”

“I don’t know,” Adrien replied, smirking. “I have plenty of fun running around on rooftops with a certain Lady…”

Luka met them at the bottom of the gangplank. “My mom needs a few things from the store. Can I walk with you part way?” he asked.

“Sure,” Adrien replied. “Thanks for including me today, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome here any time, Adrien,” Luka told him. “And if you ever want to just jam together some time, just let me know. Music’s always more fun with others!”

“I will!”

“You know,” Luka said, looking at them appraisingly, “ever since I first met you two, I’ve heard the songs in your hearts.”

Adrien glanced over at him in surprise.

Luka rubbed the pale-green bracelet on his wrist as he continued, “Your songs were in counterpoint to each other for the longest time, but I could never figure out why. At least not until last summer. Sass and I are both grateful to you for pairing us together, Marinette. And I am glad to see you both so happy. Your songs were in counterpoint before this summer, but now it is clear that they are harmonizing perfectly.”


	4. Adrien's Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien is the owner of an internationally-recognized fashion house. He's also a teenager. Sometimes the two don't mix well.

Marinette was curled up on the living room couch on Saturday evening, a cup of tea forgotten on the end table next to her. Her sketchbook was open in front of her as she put the finishing touches on a blouse design. Mme Legrand had asked her to bring the design Monday afternoon, but Marinette still wasn’t happy with the embroidery around the neckline. As she erased the neckline yet again to start over, the door leading from the bakery to the apartment steps slammed open and shut, and she heard two voices bickering away. She giggled, grateful that her parents were still closing up the bakery instead of wondering why Adrien was arguing with his (talking) shirt.

“I’m just saying,” Plagg argued, hovering next to Adrien’s head as they reached the top of the stairs, “Cataclysming the place to dust might not be the smartest idea. Cheese, on the other hand? Cheese is always a good idea. Why don’t you have a nice, calming piece of Brie; I’m sure you’ll feel much better.”

“Plagg, I’m not _actually_ going to Cataclysm the building apart,” Adrien retorted. “But don’t think I’m above going back over there and smashing everything to pieces with my staff!”

“You know that if you do that I can just fix the whole thing with Miraculous Ladybug, right?” Marinette interjected without getting up from the couch. “Rough day at the office?”

Adrien just groaned and banged his head against the wall.

Plagg cackled. “He nearly threw someone out a window – five times!” Adrien banged his head against the wall again for emphasis.

“Do you want to come over and sit with me?” Marinette asked. “I can show you the design I’ve been working on!”

Adrien held a hand up. “If I have to hear about fashion and fabric and designs and galas one more time today, I might Cataclysm the entire Fashion District off the map!” With that, he stormed into his room and slammed the door after him. Plagg shrugged while suppressing a laugh, and phased through the door after him.

Marinette stared at the door for several minutes, mouth hanging open in shock, listening to Adrien mutter indistinctly to himself. Then she got up from the couch, walked over, and put her ear to the door. Tikki dropped the macaroon she’d been eating and slipped out of Marinette’s purse to hover beside her head. As Adrien continued grumbling, Tikki phased partway through the door. Marinette heard rustling and then a loud groan on the other side of the door. She met Tikki’s eyes as she backed out of the door, and Tikki mouthed “Go in” and gestured toward the door. At that Marinette pushed the door open as quietly as she could, just in time to watch Adrien throw his dress shirt across the room, where it landed in a heap on top of his suit coat, tie, and shoes. This left him wearing nothing but an undershirt and his suit pants. He was just reaching for his belt when Marinette cleared her throat. “Adrien?”

Adrien jumped and looked at her sheepishly. “You could’ve knocked, Bugaboo,” he told her, cheeks turning pink.

“I was afraid something was wrong.”

“You heard all of this.”

“Yeah.” Marinette was quiet for a moment. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“At the moment? At the moment I just want to forget about the fashion industry, forget about what a ‘professional fashion house owner’ should wear and do and say, and forget about _everything_.” Adrien whipped the closet door with his belt to emphasize the point.

“Well,” Marinette began, gesturing toward the mess in front of the closet, “what if I take care of this while you find some sweatpants?” And without waiting for an answer, she picked up his suit coat and shook it once before grabbing a hangar from the closet. She continued staring into the closet, putting away his tie, shoes, and the pants he eventually handed her, while trying not to blush. Eventually she heard Adrien sigh and lay down on the bed, and turned to face him. She sat down at the head of the bed and started running her fingers through his hair, at which point he shifted and laid his head in her lap and buried his face in her abdomen.

He was quiet for a while as Marinette massaged his scalp and played with his hair. She smiled as she ruffled it to give him more of a Cat Noir look.

“Our East Asia distributor is trying to take advantage of us,” he finally murmured into her stomach. “They’re demanding an extra 20% of the profit just to keep carrying our clothes. And that’s nothing next to what the New York group is asking.

“I spent half the day on the phone with Taiwan, another hour trying to convince our manufacturer not to drop us, two hours with New York, and then the rest of the day trying to figure out the mess of paperwork and contracts Mme Batteux left for me this week. Mme Legrand had two interns on the outs over something in their personal lives and needed me to either fire or reassign one of them just to keep the peace.

“I spent the whole day putting out fires at Agreste, and now I’ll have to spend all day tomorrow catching up on the week’s homework.”

Marinette stopped and let her hand rest on Adrien’s head. “Oh, Kitty,” she whispered, “I didn’t realize how much of a weight this was on you. Why do you put yourself through it? Why go to all this trouble trying to save your father’s company?”

“Well, I’m not doing it for _him_ if that’s what you mean,” Adrien spat out angrily, turning to look up at her, the anger and hurt warring in his eyes. “I don’t care about him _or_ his legacy. Agreste – the company _and_ the name – can burn for all I care. The only person carrying the Agreste name at the moment that I would _really_ keep the company going for is in a miraculous-induced coma under the mansion and may never wake up again. Maybe I would have continued the company for her if she was still around, but she isn’t.”

“Then who are you doing it for?” Marinette asked calmly.

“I guess…” He thought for a minute. “At first I was doing it for the employees, the ones who stayed, even after my father was unmasked. Mme Legrand was a good friend of my mother’s. She always watched me while Mother was busy at photo shoots. Then, when I started modeling, she was there to help me find my way around. And Mme Batteux has worked at Agreste practically her whole life – I think the happiest day of her life was when I asked her to be my executive secretary. M. Lamblin always had something sweet for me when my parents brought me to work with them, and the only job he’s ever had has been as the janitor at Agreste. How could I just give up on the company when it would mean they would lose their jobs and go hungry? Or at least, that’s what I told M. Renoir when he asked my intentions once I was emancipated and Father’s assets were transferred to me.” Adrien groaned.

Marinette started running her hand up and down his back. “So couldn’t you have sold to another fashion house? One that would let your employees keep their jobs?”

Adrien nodded. “I suppose I could have; we received enough offers over the summer, didn’t we? None of them were even close to what the company should be worth, but still. But I’m not just doing it for the employees. To be honest, Milady, I think I decided to keep the company because of you.”

“Me?” Her hand stopped moving on its own as Marinette processed what he’d said.

“Well, yeah.” Adrien smiled up at her. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have even _tried_ to run Agreste by myself from the beginning if I didn’t have you by my side to support me. In a way, I think now I’m _just_ doing it for you, because you love fashion and the fashion industry so much and this is what you’ve always wanted to do with your life – to have your own fashion line or even your own fashion house.”

“What,” Marinette asked, arching an eyebrow at him, “you don’t think I would love you as much if you weren’t an up-and-coming fashion mogul? Or do you not think I would be able to get into the fashion industry on my own?”

“Neither,” he assured her quickly. “I’ve known as long as we’ve been friends that you didn’t care about my connections and influence – such as it is after… well. And I also know a dozen fashion houses that would kill to add your talent. I just…” He trailed off.

Marinette lifted his head off her lap and stretched out on the bed next to him. “You don’t have to continue Agreste just for my sake, Kitty,” she told him, with a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ll be right by your side if you own an international fashion house and live in a huge mansion, or if you get rid of all of it to live in a refrigerator box in the alley behind the bakery. But if it’s the box in the alley, my parents will probably drag us back in here to live with them!”

Adrien wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She squeezed him tightly and sighed in contentment.

“Thank you, Milady,” he whispered.

“For what?” she whispered back.

“Being here.”

“I’ll always be here for you. I _purr_ -omise.”

“Did you just make a cat pun?” Adrien gave her his best Cat Noir grin.

“I’m glad to see you _feline_ better,” she smiled back, bopping him on the nose.

“Much,” he agreed. “I’m sorry for laying all of this on you. I definitely am going to keep going with the company; today was just really rough.”

“Well, if it helps to vent, you can always tell me what’s happening,” she replied. “But what can we do to ease the load for you?”

“For starters, how about a study session tomorrow?”

“Absolutely! If you want, we can ask Alya and Nino to come over, too.”

“That sounds nice; maybe we’ll actually _study_ that way! Then… I think it’s time to find a full time office manager to handle all the day-to-day business so I don’t have to do it all on the weekends and a couple hours after school,” Adrien said thoughtfully. “But for now?” He squeezed her tighter and rested his head on her shoulder, nuzzling up to her neck. “For now, I just need you.”

“You always have me, Kitty.”


	5. A Jagged Consult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette meets with Jagged Stone to plan his next concert outfit, and things don't exactly go as expected

“I’m telling you, Marinette, for this Egypt concert I want to look like a Rock Pharaoh!”

Marinette stifled a giggle as Jagged Stone stood up and spread his arms, mimicking a pharaoh blessing his subjects. The best part of these design consultations with Jagged Stone was also the worst part: his “suggestions.” He might be a musical genius with more hits than Cat Noir took in an average Akuma battle, but he could not understand the visual arts to save his life. For his last London concert he had wanted to dress as Big Ben – not something _inspired_ by Big Ben, but the actual clock tower! It had taken three redesigns and a call to Penny before Jagged finally agreed to tone it down and just wear a gigantic clock necklace. But that’s why he had signed on as her first professional client. Marinette had to give him credit: he knew what he liked, and he trusted her to take his outlandish ideas and turn them into something both special and practical.

“I’ve got some ideas here,” she told him, flipping the page in her sketchpad, “but I don’t think pyramid-shaped glasses outlined with strobe lights are going to work. Won’t that be distracting while you’re trying to perform?”

“Ah! Right as always, love.” Jagged put a hand to his forehead melodramatically as he fell backward into his seat. “The struggles of being a true visionary!”

 _“Visionary.” That’s… certainly a word for it_ , Marinette thought, trying hard not to laugh. She smiled and turned back to the blank page in front of her, picking up a pencil as she did so. “I’ll see what I can come up with using your suggestions,” Marinette finally told him. “Why don’t you go down and help yourself to the coffee and pastries in the break room, and I’ll come up with a rough sketch of something. It’s not quite as homey as the bakery, but you can still have a couple of my Papa’s pastries!”

“Ta, love, I think I will!” Jagged stood up and stretched his arms before leaving the client consultation room, shutting the door quietly behind himself as he left.

Marinette was glad Mme Legrand had insisted on redecorating the consultation room after taking over Agreste’s design team. The room had been sterile, with white walls and a too-clean conference table when M. Agreste was running the company. Now, there was a hint of color on all the walls, just enough to stimulate Marinette’s creativity. Some of the straight-backed chairs had been replaced with easy chairs and bean bags. Gone was the conference table; in its place were a smaller round table and a number of individual rolling desks. As a whole, the atmosphere was far more relaxing.

The door creaked open and Marinette glanced over, surprised that Jagged could have returned so quickly. When she saw who was standing in the doorway, however, Marinette had to fight back a groan. _Or at least it_ was _relaxing in here…_

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” M. Janet began. “I was wondering where you were and why you were not at your desk. After all, don’t you have some skirt designs to complete for our summer line?”

“Did Mme Legrand tell you where I was and why?” Marinette asked, as innocently as possible.

“Yes, she told me you were here with a client,” he replied, giving her a dubious look. “But I don’t see the client. So who is this mystery client that you are supposedly consulting with?”

“Jagged Stone.”

“Jagged–” Janet sputtered. He scoffed. “Jagged Stone isn’t an Agreste client.”

“No, he isn’t,” Marinette agreed. “Yet. He’s _my_ client.”

“Jagged Stone? _Your_ client? I’m sure. And now you’re taking your own clients? While working for this fashion house?” Janet demanded. He threw his arms up. “Of course you are! Why should I expect a teenager to understand such things as ‘non-compete clauses’? Do I have to do everything around here?” he muttered. He turned to Marinette and told her, “Your internship may not include a non-compete clause, stating that you can’t take new clients independently while working at Agreste, but you certainly cannot use company resources to serve your own clients!”

“I think there’s a misunderstanding here, M. Janet,” Marinette answered, keeping her voice level. “I _haven’t_ taken any new clients since my internship started. Jagged Stone was _already_ my client long before I started at Agreste. And I’m not using Agreste’s resources to serve my own client; I’m using _some_ Agreste resources to convince _my_ client to follow me and sign as an _Agreste_ client. M. Agreste himself actually gave me permission to do that when my internship started. If you look in my internship contract, it’s laid out very clearly.”

“You would give up Jagged Stone as a client? For an internship?” Janet scoffed. “I’ll bet. And as for your contract, I’ll be sure to–” He jumped as someone cleared their throat behind him. Marinette forced her expression to stay cool as Janet’s eyes bugged out in shock at turning around to see Jagged Stone himself standing behind him, lounging against the doorframe with a half-eaten scone in one hand and a croissant in the other.

“There a problem here, love?” Jagged called out to Marinette, edging around Janet and dropping the croissant on the desk in front of Marinette before plopping into his seat.

Marinette struggled to keep the amusement in her eyes from spreading any further. As it stood, it took a herculean effort to keep her lips from quirking into a smirk. She grabbed the croissant off the desk and bit into it to hide her newfound lack of control over her facial muscles.

“No, no problem at all, Jagged,” Marinette told him. “The office manager, M. Janet, was just coming to check up on us. He’s so considerate like that.”

“Sounds it,” Jagged observed. He gave Janet an appraising look as he wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “He sounds about as rock and roll as Bob Roth!”

Marinette stifled a snort at seeing the confusion on Janet’s face at the comment. “I’m sure he means well,” she assured Jagged. “This personal touch is just one of the many perks we can give our clients here at Agreste Fashion! Thanks for the croissant, by the way. Designing on an empty stomach always ends with skirts that look like oatmeal cookies!”

* * *

It was two hours later and the sun had already set when Marinette finally trudged out of the Agreste building. Her brain felt like it had shorted out about eight redesigns ago. She groaned and massaged her temples as she turned towards the bakery and dinner. It was a long walk, but she was used to it. Alya’s house was on the way, but she didn’t have time to stop that night.

Marinette heard footsteps behind her and instinctively clutched her purse tighter. An unfamiliar car pulled over at the end of the block. Marinette narrowed her eyes and tensed, just as she felt someone touch her shoulder. Marinette spun around, swinging the purse with all of her might, and only the person’s catlike reflexes saved him from being knocked out cold.

“Whoa, whoa, relax, Mar! It’s me!” Adrien’s voice cut through the mental fog.

“Adrien? What are you _doing???_ ”

“I – giving you a ride home?” he offered ruefully. “If you want a ride, that is. Everything okay, Bugaboo?”

“I didn’t recognize the car,” Marinette said lamely.

“My car needed some repair, so Gorilla got a rental,” Adrien explained. “Sorry I didn’t say anything, but normally you can tell it’s me. What’s got you so out of it tonight?”

“I – ugh – I don’t want to talk about it right now, but I’d love that ride,” she told him, following him over to the car.

Once they were inside, Marinette leaned over to rest her head on Adrien’s shoulders and felt him wrap his arms around her. She sighed in contentment and closed her eyes. “Jagged Stone came in to work on the outfit for his next concert,” she finally told him.

“What’s so bad about that?” Adrien asked. “Normally you love working with him.”

“Something felt… off… about it this time,” she replied with a frown. “Each time I showed him a new design, he said it looked amazing, but he wasn’t quite ‘feeling it’ yet. By the time we got to one we both approved of, I was this close to giving him something _else_ to ‘feel!’”

“Sorry it was so rough this time.” Adrien squeezed her, and she nuzzled in closer to his neck.

“I don’t know what the problem was,” she continued, putting a hand on his chest. “I was tense in a way I’m normally not. He normally gives me ridiculously over-the-top, outlandish ideas, and I can always work them into something spectacular. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy with what we came up with. It’s just that this time it just took a lot longer to get there than I expected it to.”

Adrien was silent for a moment. “When we get home, what do you want to do?” he finally asked. “Do you want to eat with your parents, do you want to be alone, or do you want to just play video games until we both pass out in front of your computer?”

Marinette thought before answering. “Let’s take dinner up to my room and play video games. Maybe I just need to kill some monsters.”

“I suppose that’s one drawback of not patrolling every night,” Adrien whispered in her ear. “We don’t get as many chances to let our anger out on the criminal element!”

“… Should I be worried about you, Agreste?”

* * *

When they arrived at the bakery, Marinette was grateful to find that Adrien had texted ahead, and her parents had already brought plates up to her bedroom so the two of them could eat by themselves and play Max’s new game, “Super Akuma Battle Melee.” They dug into the homemade pizza before starting the game.

Marinette tried to focus on the game, but couldn’t get the day’s events out of her head enough to concentrate. The accusing look in M. Janet’s face. Jagged Stone shaking his head and frowning at her design for the fifteenth time in a row. Adrien whooped as Stormy Weather knocked her character, this time Lady WiFi, out of the ring for the fifth straight round.

Adrien gave her a concerned look. “You’re still not okay yet, are you, Bugaboo?” Without waiting for her response, he took her hand, lifted her out of the chair, and pulled her over to the chaise. “Let’s do something else for a while, then try the video game idea again.”

Marinette lay down on the chaise and leaned into Adrien, resting her forehead against his chest. She sighed as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Finally she allowed herself to relax when Adrien started rubbing her back in soothing circles. Whatever the problem had been this afternoon, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what Janet said to her, because Adrien was with her. As long as she had her partner by her side, she could handle anything.


	6. Lila's Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila doesn't understand what's different this year...

Lila zeroed in on Adrien the moment she saw him walk through the school door without that self-righteous girlfriend of his, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dangling from his arm. She didn’t know _why_ Adrien was arriving alone, but she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to talk to him. She’d missed enough chances with him during the week when he and Marinette had broken up.

It still rankled her. She had tried to talk to Adrien every day that week, only to have someone block her each time. First that foreign _icicle_ , Kagami, had dropped her fencing sword just as they walked past each other, so that Lila had tripped over it. She had apologized profusely, of course – so profusely that Adrien was out of sight by the time Lila extricated herself from Kagami’s clutches. Then there was the time Kagami actually held out her foot and _tripped_ Lila! When Lila had reported the incident to M. Damocles, however, _Chloe_ of all people had insisted that Kagami was on the opposite side of the school helping her study for their math test! A story that her half-witted lackey Sabrina of course backed up. A couple days later, Lila had tried to get out of the classroom quickly enough to catch Adrien between classes. However, her bag had burst open the moment she stood up. Lila had no idea how she had done it, but the smirk Chloe sent her way was enough to convince her that _she_ was somehow responsible!

And then she’d lost her chance because, almost overnight, Adrien and Marinette had become inseparable once more. It was as if nothing had changed between them – nothing, and everything. Lila couldn’t even take satisfaction in Marinette’s bout of depression during that week; she still had no idea what caused the breakup, but it certainly wasn’t anything _she_ had done!

So when Adrien entered the school alone for the first time in weeks, Lila seized the chance.

“Adrien!” she called, fixing a saccharine smile on her face. “I’m _so_ happy to see you! It’s been so long since we caught up! How are you?”

“I’m fine, Lila, thanks,” he responded politely before trying to slip past her.

Lila sidestepped to block his way. “It’s simply _wonderful_ to see you and Marinette resolved your differences! She’s _so_ much happier when you’re around; I’m sure it helps keep her… condition… under control.”

“Excuse me?” Adrien narrowed his eyes at her.

Lila covered her mouth with both hands, widening her eyes. “Oh! But I thought you knew! She didn’t really hide the symptoms all that well last year… But there are treatments, at least. It must be so hard on you, for her to flip on you so suddenly, and then turn again, just like that.”

Lila gasped in surprise as Adrien closed the distance between them, eyes narrowing even further into tiny slits. In spite of herself she flinched at the hard set to his jaw, the ominous glare he leveled at her. His hands at his sides squeezed into tight, white-knuckled fists that trembled slightly from the fury emanating from him. Clearly he had inherited _something_ from Papa Hawk Moth… Lila backed away as Adrien advanced, only to find herself trapped on feeling the cold surface of the wall behind her back. She still couldn’t get a read on Adrien this year. Last year, she’d known exactly how far she could push him, and exactly how far he would push back, knowing that if he ever stepped a toe out of line his father might get involved. This new emancipated Adrien whose father was in prison? Who knew _how_ far he might push back, without the threat of his father looming over him?

Adrien unclenched one fist and put his hand on the wall next to Lila’s head, fixing her with a wrathful glare. “I’m going to tell you once, Lila,” he ground out. “Leave Marinette alone. I tried to give you a chance last year, but I am _not_ going to stand for your manipulations this year. If you even _think_ about hurting her with your lies, the gloves come off. And you will not like what happens if they do,” he finished darkly, slamming his fist into the wall next to her for emphasis. Then he turned on his heel and stormed off toward their first class.

Alone once more, Lila let out a shaky breath. She loathed the weakness she had displayed in front of him. She had lost control of the situation somewhere, and Adrien had taken full advantage of it. And then he had seen a crack in her armor. Before the stupid _heroes_ (the word still rankled her) had defeated Hawk Moth over the summer, she’d known there was always a way out of any risky situation: someone’s emotions would spike, Hawk Moth would send an Akuma, and she could escape in the confusion. Or, if the opportunity presented itself, she might grab that Akuma’s power for herself. Without Hawk Moth, however, she had lost access to that power and control; all she had to work with anymore was her tongue, seeding lies and turning others against each other and against her enemies. Today, Adrien had seen right through her manipulation, and she despised him for it.

 _Well, we will see about that_. Lila quickly ran into the nearby bathroom. She splashed a little water on her face, smearing her makeup slightly, but not so much that it would be instantly noticeable. She ran a hand through her hair to pull a few strands out of place. A few tears, and her eyes were red as though she had been crying for days. Finally she looked down at her shirt and grimaced. To really sell this story, she would need more than just some makeup and hair. If she was going to be rid of Adrien for good, she needed her shirt. _At least it’s one from last year_ , she grumbled, grabbing the shirt and pulling it. The fabric stretched in just the right places. And with a little bit more tugging, the collar tore slightly. Looking back into the mirror, she was finally satisfied with her appearance. _Five minutes, and Agreste won’t know what hit him._

A moment later, Lila was stumbling into the classroom, sniffling back tears that threatened to fall. “Mme Raulet,” she whispered, giving the words just enough of a hitch, “I–I don’t feel well. I–I think I need–”

“What happened?” Mme Raulet looked over her hair and smeared makeup and rushed to her, surprise in her eyes.

“I–I shouldn’t – Please? I’m afraid!” Lila covered her face with her hands.

“Who did this?” Mme Raulet put her hand on Lila’s shoulder.

Lila sighed and hesitated for a beat, as though the admission took every ounce of courage she possessed. “It… it was Adrien.” There was a gasp. “He threatened me, ten minutes ago, before school started. I was in the bathroom, trying to clean up, but…” Lila stopped talking and sobbed as Mme Raulet put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, no, Lila!” Kim said, his eyebrows shooting up. _Excellent_ , she thought, only for her mind to go blank as he continued. “Don’t tell us that your illness is acting up again!”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. “… What?”

“You know,” Ivan added, “the illness that makes you _lie_.”

“But I’m telling the truth!”

“Dude,” Nino said, furrowing his brow, “this isn’t funny. Adrien couldn’t have threatened you when you say he did. He was down at the park with us skateboarding. We had to run to make it to class on time just now.”

“It’s okay, Lila,” Mme Raulet said. “I don’t know how this happened, but perhaps your illness was more severe than we thought, to relapse again. Why don’t you go and take your seat?”

Lila fumed as she stomped up the stairs to her desk, pretending that each step was Kim’s face she was squashing to grind that stupid smirk into the dirt. She fumed through the next couple classes until lunch rolled around and all of her classmates gathered to eat together in the dining hall. Nino had his phone out and was showing everyone something. Lila didn’t pay attention at first, but her ears perked up when she heard who they were talking about.

“I’m telling you,” Nino said, grinning from ear to ear, “it sounds like that concert was absolutely the bomb! They’re saying this was Jagged Stone’s best concert _ever_!”

“And do you see that outfit he’s wearing?” Rose commented. “It’s absolutely _gorgeous_!”

“It _is_ super cute!” Lila agreed, leaning into the conversation and smiling. “He showed it to me before he left for the tour but swore me to secrecy. He said he was only showing it to me as a thank you for introducing him to the designer.”

“Really?” Juleka asked. “That’s amazing! Who was this designer?”

“You know,” Lila evaded, “they really like to keep their work anonymous, so I probably shouldn’t say. But they’ve done all kinds of work for other bands and stuff! We’re _really_ great friends! Sometimes they even invite me along to the after parties!”

“That’s so cool, Lila! I can’t believe you’re friends with Marinette!” Mylène gushed from the other end of the table.

Lila’s heart stopped. “I’m sorry? No, Jagged told me he was going with someone else…”

Adrien grinned, hugging a blushing Marinette closer to himself. “No, this one was designed by Marinette. He even shouted her out during an interview a couple weeks ago before he left for Egypt. He said she’s the only designer he’s used in the last year and a half!”

It took every ounce of self-control Lila had left not to slam her forehead into the table. “I’m… I think I’m just tired, you guys,” she finally said, loathing every word. “I must have misheard him. I guess it’s just my busy schedule finally catching up to me. I’m still feeling a little jetlagged from last week. It was a busy trip to America. First I was walking in the March for Human Rights with Dan Afflin – you know, the actor? He was so grateful to me for being there! And then I went to testify at the U.N. against climate change. I’ve been in something of a fog the last couple of days.”

When Lila looked around the table she saw a couple of people nodding sympathetically. Alya, however, had her brow furrowed and her phone in her hand. “You say you saw Dan Afflin at that march _last_ week?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course!” Lila nodded. “We were leading the march, and he told me he was nervous about giving his speech at the Lincoln Memorial so I told him to just think of it like his latest acting role, the one that got him the Oscar.”

“He is quite the talented actor,” Alya observed, turning her phone around to show them a series of pictures. “But I don’t think _he_ ’s half as good an actor as this _march_ is, pretending to be the Australian outback! According to his Instagram, he’s been in Australia for the last month shooting his next movie. And during that march he was right here, riding a kangaroo!”

“And the United Nations has not met in 3 months,” Max supplied. “Therefore I conclude that the likelihood that you testified before them during the specified timeframe is less than 2%.”

Lila schooled her features, fought back the humiliated blush threatening to spread over her face, and stood from the table. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, “I think my mother is calling. We have a conference call with Prince Ali this afternoon to start another orphanage, and she needs my support.”

Lila grabbed her bag and turned away, but not fast enough to avoid hearing the sharp increase in volume as she left. How could everything have gone so wrong, so fast? Before the summer, the class had been eating out of the palm of her hand, and she had nearly succeeded in isolating and ostracizing that pest Marinette. Even Marinette’s best friend Alya – both Lila’s the next-greatest threat thanks to her nosiness, and her greatest possible ally thanks to her blog – had been practically in Lila’s pocket before the summer break. She had handed Hawk Moth excellent Akuma fodder, and he had rewarded her with great power – and, apparently, the opportunity to get close to his son.

And then Hawk Moth had been unmasked and arrested. Now the Butterfly Miraculous had a new holder, one who would never grant Lila the power and control she craved. Her greatest ally was gone, and as if that wasn’t enough, her classmates completely turned their backs on her. _Somehow, it’s all Marinette’s fault_ , she grumbled. If she wasn’t so humiliated, she might even have admired the other girl’s ability to completely outmaneuver her – without having said a word all day.

 _The game’s not over_ , Lila promised herself. _That self-important prude may have won this battle, but the war is far from over. Destroying Marinette and her friends at school may have failed for now, but there are other possibilities. I’ll just have to be more… subtle._


	7. The Photo Shoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette helps out at her first professional photo shoot, but things don't exactly go as planned for their newest model

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of takes off from “Reflekdoll,” with Juleka’s interest in becoming a model. What a coincidence, her friend owns a fashion house and needs models…

It took all of her concentration for Marinette to not sew her finger into the seam of the dress she was altering when the tent flap was thrown violently aside and someone burst inside. As it was, Marinette still pricked her index finger and only avoided getting a drop of blood on the fabric by millimeters as she pulled the finger away and stuck it in her mouth. She turned around in confusion that quickly turned to surprise and concern at the sight of the model with her face buried in her hands.

“Juleka?” she asked hesitantly, setting the dress aside and standing up from the folding table that was serving as her on-site workstation. “What’s wrong?”

“I–I just – I can’t do this!” she moaned, shaking her head back and forth and fighting back sobs.

Marinette wrapped her arms around Juleka’s shoulders, careful not to let her pricked finger touch the blouse Juleka was supposed to be modeling at that very moment. The prick still stung a little, but she couldn’t see any blood at least. She squeezed Juleka’s shoulders and allowed her to cry into her shirt. “Shh…” she soothed. “It’s okay. I’m nervous, too. Today’s been nothing like our last photo shoot together. It’s okay to be anxious and scared; I’m pretty sure Adrien was nervous for his first professional shoot, too.”

“Still am,” Adrien interjected, sticking his head into the tent. He grimaced. “Marcel may be the best photographer we have, but he’s got a serious diva complex about his ‘art.’”

Juleka tensed in Marinette’s arms, and she glared at him over her shoulder. His lip curled in apology, and she quirked an eyebrow at him in understanding before he quietly ducked back out of the tent. “Sorry about him,” Marinette finally said, putting as much comfort in her voice as she could. “He means well, but sometimes his timing could be better.”

“He’s not wrong, though,” Juleka admitted, straightening up to look at Marinette. “I was just trying to comply with the pose that M. Brohm asked for, when he exploded! He said my smile was all wrong, that my hair was out of place, that I was mocking him and his art…”

Marinette scoffed. “That man,” she muttered heatedly. “No one treats my friends that way. I don’t know _anyone_ more dedicated to this than you!”

“Maybe I am dedicated,” Juleka replied, hanging her head, “but I guess I’m just not good enough to do it.”

“Of course you’re good enough,” Marinette insisted, leading her over to the second worktable and sitting her down in front of the mirror. “Did you know I only have one picture on my desk at Agreste? It’s one of you and Adrien at that photo shoot we did last spring. And it’s _not_ because of Adrien–”

Juleka smirked at her. “What, you don’t have enough pictures of his face on your bedroom wall?”

Marinette blushed beet red and couldn’t speak for a full minute. “That’s not – I don’t – _I got rid of those!_ ” she finally squeaked.

Juleka simply arched an eyebrow at her. Then they both collapsed onto each other’s shoulders in a fit of giggles.

“I really _was_ hopeless, wasn’t I?” Marinette admitted when their giggles finally subsided, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You kind of were,” Juleka agreed. “But we loved you for it. Most of the time,” she amended, smirking. “Do you still have his schedule taped up in your bedroom?”

“I do,” Marinette told her, quickly adding, “but with everything we _both_ have going on these days – and he doesn’t have Nathalie to keep his schedule straight for him anymore – it’s more an act of self-preservation than anything else!”

Juleka snorted. “Sure it is.”

Marinette sighed and shook her head fondly, rummaging through the makeup kit for wipes as she did so. Juleka sat still as Marinette touched up the places where she’d smeared her makeup.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Juleka said quietly, looking at her and frowning.

“This?” Marinette asked, glancing down at the smudges of mascara and blush on her shoulder. She laughed easily. “It’s nothing; I’ll change when the shoot’s finished. Besides, Mme Legrand says it doesn’t matter what the _designer_ looks like at the shoot; all that matters is the _design_. And that includes the model wearing the design.” She leaned back to examine her work. “See? All set!”

“Thanks,” Juleka said, looking intently into the mirror. “I guess I should go back out.”

“I’ll come with you,” Marinette decided, standing up. “We don’t need this dress for a little bit, so I’ve got some time to watch you and Adrien work.”

She followed Juleka out of the tent and saw Adrien posing for another round of photos. He saw them coming and nodded to M. Brohm. The photographer turned around and waved them over.

“Ah, Mlle Couffaine! I hoped I had not scared you off! We simply must get this shoot moving along!”

Marinette felt Juleka stiffen next to her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. She flicked her eyes at Adrien, who immediately left the platform and walked over to them. When he reached them, he wrapped an arm around Juleka’s shoulders and guided her back to the platform.

“Don’t worry about him,” Adrien muttered to her, rubbing small circles on her back. “We’ll get through this together.”

“Is it always like this?” she muttered back.

“It gets easier,” he assured her. “You be a pro in no time. Meanwhile, though…” he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’ve… gotten a little out of practice lately. Too much sitting behind a desk, I think. Could you help me figure out this next pose?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Juleka said, giving him an odd look but following where he directed her.

Marinette smiled at Adrien, who winked at her over his shoulder. Then Marinette turned and strode toward M. Brohm, putting on her most serious Ladybug face. The photographer gave her a surprised look as she approached.

“Can I help you, Mlle…”

“Marinette.” She smiled, but without putting any warmth into the expression. “I’m helping Mme Legrand in the alterations and fitting tent for the shoot. It’s incredible to see how a professional photo shoot functions! We fit the models, the makeup people touch up their makeup, they come out here to take the photos, and then we do it all again for the next outfit! It’s so exciting when everything runs smoothly! But I do have a question for you.”

M. Brohm’s gave her a look of confusion. “And what is that?”

“Is it common for your models to run away in tears? Because, you see, your second model was in the tent with me for about 20 minutes because she was too upset to continue.”

“Ah, heh,” M. Brohm scoffed. “That girl did not understand what I am doing here. I am–”

“–doing your job,” Marinette interrupted, “which is to take amazing photographs of our amazing models wearing our amazing clothing. But–” she held up a hand to stave off his spluttering protest. She kept her voice calm even as she narrowed her eyes and allowed some anger to bleed through into her expression. “–that only works when the models are comfortable and relaxed, _not_ when they’re having a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked indignantly.

“This model has had exactly one modeling photo shoot before now,” Marinette confessed, softening her tone, “so she is a little nervous. And when you start talking about your art and telling her she isn’t good enough, can you imagine what that feels like? Juleka wants more than anything to succeed at this, but she needs _coaching_ and _encouragement_ , not yelling and mocking. I have a picture from her first shoot on my desk back at the office, and it turned out great – certainly not as _professional_ as your photographs, of course, since it was just a few friends at the Tower. But do you know why it turned out great? Because the models – _your_ same two models today – were comfortable.”

M. Brohm furrowed his brow. “What are you saying, Mademoiselle?”

“I’m simply asking you to please, help my friend,” Marinette told him, a pleading expression in her eyes. “She will give you the amazing, professional photos you want, but she needs your help. Will you help her learn to be a model?”

M. Brohm’s lips parted slightly in surprise. “I–of course I will help her,” he finally said. His eyes brightened and some of his excitement returned. “And together, we shall create the best photographs you can imagine!”

“Thank you so much, Monsieur!” Marinette beamed at him. “Well, that dress isn’t going to alter itself. Good luck with the rest of the shoot!”

Marinette turned around to return to the fitting tent, only to see Mme Legrand standing by the entrance and holding two paper cups of tea. She was shaking her head and grinning as Marinette walked over and accepted the one she held out. Mme Legrand put her hand on Marinette’s shoulder affectionately as they walked into the tent together.

“You know, when Adrien first asked me to use this internship to mentor you in the fashion industry, I was skeptical,” Mme Legrand admitted when they were alone. “I thought, ‘you’re putting too much on the girl too soon. Her designs are phenomenal, no doubt about that, but there’s so much more to being a Lead Fashion Designer than that.’

“Have I told you yet how unfair it is for you to be so mature at 16?” She chuckled ruefully, glancing back out the tent door as she did so. “I’ve been working in the fashion industry – for this company, even – since before you were born, and I’ve known Marcel almost that long, and I’ve _never_ seen this side of him before. That’s the first time I’ve seen him looking both chastened _and_ excited at the same time!”

“I just wanted to make sure Juleka has a good experience.” Marinette shrugged. “Last time she modeled for me, it went so badly she got Akumatized.”

“Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that for two reasons, dear. For one, Ladybug and her friends took care of your future super-villain-in-law.” Marinette could see the ghost of a relieved smile on her lips at that. “And for another…” Mme Legrand pulled the flap back to show M. Brohm animatedly demonstrating the proper pose. Adrien was over-exaggerating the pose, windmilling his arms comically to keep his balance, while Juleka fought back giggles at their antics. “I think this is the most laid-back I’ve seen a photo shoot since the first time Emilie brought baby Adrien to one!”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed. Juleka looked… relaxed, even happy. “I just… told them what they needed to hear.”

“That’s not such a common skill in our industry,” Mme Legrand told her. “All designers are good with fabrics. Unlike _some_ designers I could mention, you, however, are also good with people. And that can make all the difference.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, Mme Legrand is Agreste’s lead designer, who is Marinette’s mentor and the only person at the fashion house fully aware of Marinette and Adrien’s relationship (and that she is essentially grooming Marinette to officially become Agreste’s new lead designer in a few years). It hasn’t really come up before now, but Adrien and Marinette in this universe are not exactly the “power couple” they were presented as in the “Chat Blanc” alternate future. Partly this is because Adrien took a months’-long break from modeling after Gabriel’s arrest in order to focus on keeping the company afloat (and because he wanted to actually have a life). The company’s reputation also took a nosedive after the arrest, so he isn’t the media’s “golden boy” anymore. They probably were hounding him for a few weeks, but a benefit of Gabriel outing him as Cat Noir in front of the other heroes at the beginning of their final battle is that the heroes were even more motivated to help fend off the paparazzi!
> 
> Long story short, their relationship isn’t exactly a secret, but (as mentioned in “Tit for Tat”) it’s not common knowledge at this point, either, particularly at the fashion house.


	8. Freefalls and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Cat Noir respond to a kidnapping, and it's deja vu all over again. On a completely unrelated note, should superheroes have nightmares?

Ladybug raced across the rooftops, the wind whipping through her hair and her partner by her side. “It’s too bad Ryoku and King Monkey were already busy with those gun runners by the Seine,” she observed. “The game was just getting interesting.”

Cat Noir hummed in agreement. “At least Settlers of Catan will keep until we can finish the game tomorrow,” he told her. “It’s a good thing we were at the mansion instead of setting it up in your room; could you imagine the mess if it got in the way of one of your projects?”

“What?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him. “After what Plagg did to your anime figures last month, you don’t have any room to complain! And anyways, I’m not _that_ bad…”

“Please,” he scoffed, “Remember after you made Kagami’s kimono? It was like a fabric store threw up everywhere! It was a _cat_ astrophe!”

“See if I bring _you_ any pastries in the morning!”

“No!” he whined, putting a hand to his forehead dramatically, “not my pastries! Have mercy, Princess!”

Ladybug stroked her chin in mock contemplation. “ _Purr_ -haps I can rescind the pastry ban,” she said thoughtfully, looping her yo-yo around a building eave to swing across the next street, “but only if you give up puns for the rest of the night!”

“I _purr_ -omise,” Cat Noir teased. He hit the button to extend his staff, slamming the end into the middle of the deserted street ahead of them before pushing off and riding the staff to its apex. From there he used the staff as a springboard and collapsed it, allowing himself to arc through the air toward the roof of the high-rise apartment building that the Heroes of Paris Alert System had sent them to.

Ladybug threw her yo-yo up and looped it around a projection near the apartment building’s roof. She tugged the string, which quickly retracted, pulling her over the street and up to the building’s roof. She flew across the street and braced her legs for impact with the building’s wall. Without losing momentum she ran up the wall, using the yo-yo to gain momentum, until she was a few meters below the yo-yo. She pushed her herself upward, swung around the yo-yo as a fulcrum, detached it, and landed on the balls of her feet, at the same moment that Cat Noir landed next to her.

The small group of men in dark clothing near the rooftop door turned to face the sudden noise. Ladybug smirked at the way the nearest thug’s grip on his rifle loosened in shock. She sauntered across the roof, Cat Noir by her side, as though she was just out for a moonlit stroll.

“My, my, my,” she commented, scanning the crowd with a practiced eye. “Did you gentlemen come up here for a late-night smoke break?”

“Oh, yeah,” the one with the rifle answered, nodding. “We were just… um… waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Ladybug replied, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think, Kitty, should we stay and wait with them?”

“Definitely,” he nodded, smirking. “You never know what kinds of dangerous characters could be wandering around on top of thirty-story apartment buildings in the middle of the night!”

“That’s okay,” the speaker quickly interjected, stepping back and making a motion to his men. “Nothing to see here…”

“You believe them, right, Cat? There couldn’t be anything suspicious here!” Ladybug grinned and shifted to her left, even as Cat Noir spread out to the right.

“Certainly nothing suspicious going on here. In the middle of the night. Armed.” Cat Noir replied. He cocked his head at them. “Hey, do you think we were actually born yesterday?”

“Ah, crud,” the leader muttered. In a single motion he raised his rifle and fired at Cat Noir, even as he shouted to his followers, “Take them down, boys!”

Cat Noir’s staff was up and spinning in an instant, shielding himself from the leader’s fire. Seeing him so occupied, the remainder of the kidnappers advanced on Ladybug, who spun her yo-yo to one side, eyes darting around the crowd. She carefully monitored the eyes of the man in front of her, waiting until he would telegraph his actions. The group fanned out around her in a semicircle. The thug’s eyes twitched a moment before he swung his bat at her head, and Ladybug ducked to one side, grabbing the bat as it passed above her, and pulled the man off-balance. She sidestepped a charge from behind her, looped her yo-yo around the man as he stumbled past, and swung him off his feet into the air, slamming him into the ground so hard she knocked the wind out of his lungs. Spinning into a scissor kick, Ladybug wrapped her legs around the next thug and pulled him to the ground, laying him out on top of the other man.

Several of the criminals had left the group around Ladybug and moved to flank Cat Noir, who was still pinned down by the leader and his rifle. Ladybug threw her yo-yo out, wrapped it around the leader’s rifle, and pulled. The leader held onto the gun and spun around, wrapping the yo-yo around a nearby satellite dish. He tugged on the yo-yo string, just as another thug charged Ladybug from the side, swinging a bat above his head. Ladybug ducked away from the bat and dove to the side, keeping her grip on the yo-yo as she did so. The thug tripped over the yo-yo string and fell to the ground, but the string was tugged off of her finger and her momentum carried her away from the yo-yo, which landed on the roof beside the leader.

She was dancing close to the edge of the roof; the thug she had just tripped had landed with his arm dangling off the edge. She leapt over his prone form and spun into a kick to take out the man standing behind him, a little over a meter away from the edge. However, he evaded the kick and planted his foot. The moment Ladybug landed, he kicked her, hard, in the gut.

All the air was forced from Ladybug’s chest and she flew backward, over the edge of the roof. She had a momentary feeling of weightlessness before gravity took her. In that moment all she could see was the look of horror in Cat Noir’s eyes, watching from the opposite side of the roof with a dozen armed criminals between them.

“Ladybug!”

As she fell past the roof level, Ladybug looked around, searching for a handhold to slow her fall. This particular apartment building was built in a streamlined, modern style: straight walls without any ornamentation near the roof. And the force of the kick had pushed her out in an arc, away from the building, too far to reach the balcony railings projecting from the apartments that she was now falling past. Ladybug held her arms out wide, felt the wind whipping around her body, and closed her eyes. The falling sensation was almost peaceful, even though she knew it could not last much longer.

Something collided with her and wrapped tightly around her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs for the second time in under a minute. Her eyes opened involuntarily, an instant before her descent came to an abrupt halt. She looked up into Cat Noir’s face. His jaw had taken on a hard set, his eyes screwed up in concentration. He had wrapped one arm tightly around her chest, so tight she could feel her ribs creaking. His other hand kept a firm grip on his staff, which he had extended to the ground to arrest their fall.

“C-Cat!” she wheezed out, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, Milady,” he grunted, relaxing his grip on her fractionally so she could breathe.

“I know.” She sighed and nuzzled his neck with her nose. She felt the slight tug from gravity as Cat Noir lengthened the staff to return them to the building’s roof. “I trust you.”

A moment later she felt that sensation of weightlessness again and squeezed Cat Noir tighter. In response he adjusted his arms to cradle her bridal-style, a moment before they landed on the building’s roof. Ladybug looked up from his shoulder and saw that all of the kidnappers they had been fighting were sprawled unconscious around the roof.

“So much for finding their boss tonight,” she observed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“They were in my way,” he defended, glaring at them darkly.

She rested her cheek against his chest as he released her legs so she could stand next to him. “It’s not a big deal,” she assured him, shifting her hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sure the police will get something from them… if you didn’t concuss them too badly!”

In response he wrapped his arms around her shoulders tightly and buried his face in her hair. She looped her arms around his neck to return the hug, and kissed him. “I think our work here is done,” she told him as the roof door opened and a pair of police officers raced out. “Ready to go home?”

“… Yeah.”

“Hey, do you want to come home with me?” she asked, examining his eyes.

“No, I’ll be fine,” he promised, giving her an over-bright smile that didn’t fool her for a second. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll meet you with pastries and coffee bright and early!”

* * *

_Tap tap tap_

Marinette groaned and threw her arm up over her face before blinking her eyes open. Something had interrupted her sleep, but she couldn’t imagine what. She looked up at the skylight in her hatch, and her eyes widened in surprise. Glowing green eyes stared back at her for a moment before disappearing.

She threw off the comforter and stood up in her bed, pushing the hatch open and sticking her head out. Her head was less than a meter from that of Cat Noir, who sat cross-legged, staring at her in shame and embarrassment.

“Adrien?” she asked, unsurprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know,” he started, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “I was just in the neighborhood and wondered if I would _cat_ -ch you awake…”

She stared at him dubiously. “You couldn’t sleep, could you?” She said it without any anger or disappointment, but his face still fell.

“I…” he mumbled. “I thought I’d lost you,” he finally confessed. “I almost _did_ lose you – I felt my grip slipping and I nearly dropped you, even after I _did_ save you! What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I’d let go of the staff? What if–”

Marinette grabbed his shoulder, pulled him close, and silenced him with a kiss on the lips. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her and kissing her back, tentatively at first but quickly turning into fierce desperation. She hugged him tightly, awkward as it was while halfway out of her hatch.

“You did save me, Kitty,” she whispered, looking tenderly into his eyes. “I trust you to always protect me, and you never let me down.”

He nodded and rested his forehead against hers. “Thanks,” he whispered back. “I really needed this.” After a moment he leaned back and looked around as if to leave. “I think I’m okay now,” he promised her, but without any conviction in his voice.

Marinette gave him a look and shrugged before starting to drop back into the room. Then she suddenly grabbed him by the bell and pulled him inside after her. She allowed her momentum to pull her back and out of his way. He yelped, but instinctively tucked his head and rolled, coming to rest on his back on her bed. Before he could move, she pounced on top of him, pinning him to the bed and kissing him. Cat Noir wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

She pulled away and ran her fingers through his hair, rubbing the cat ears on the top of his head. He closed his eyes and hummed in contentment. “You can’t fool me,” she told him. “You don’t have to be strong for me, either. Sometimes, you can let me be strong for you.”

He nodded. His eye glinted at her mischievously. She saw it coming a moment before it happened, but squealed as she allowed him to roll her over onto her back. He landed on top of her, de-transforming as he did so. Plagg rolled his eyes at the sight of them and disappeared to find Tikki. Marinette pulled Adrien’s head down to rest over her heart and smiled at the way his face melted into her as he listened to her heartbeat. He started shivering slightly, and she threw the comforter over them both.

“Good night, Kitty,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

“Good night, Milady.”


	9. Midnight Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette wakes up in the middle of the night to find a "Fox Burglar" and a "Spider" sneaking around the Agreste Mansion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a follow-up to ["The Fashion Disaster"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24286768/chapters/58538848) and shows Marinette's reaction to that story.

Marinette wasn’t sure what woke her up. She and Adrien had fallen asleep on his couch for a few hours, only to wake up starving. Tikki and Plagg had helpfully brought them some leftover pizza and then disappeared to give them privacy – or at least the illusion of it. Marinette could’ve sworn she’d heard Plagg snickering while she and Adrien ate and talked. It had been close to midnight when they finally crawled into Adrien’s bed, he wrapped his arms protectively around her, and she was lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady breathing.

Now Marinette found herself awake at – she pulled Adrien’s alarm clock toward herself – 4:30 in the morning! No one else was supposed to be in the mansion with them. While they were eating, Tikki had let them know that Alya, Max, and Nino had all left hours before. Mme Lenoir wasn’t due back from Lyons until the afternoon. Master Fu was still in Australia. The two of them and their Kwamis should have been alone in the mansion. And a glance at the bookcase showed that Tikki and Plagg were still asleep, curled up next to each other on a small nest of cheese rinds and pastry boxes.

Marinette was about to close her eyes and go back to sleep when she heard another noise. It sounded like voices carrying down the hall from the entryway. All traces of sleepiness vanished in an instant. She glanced over at Adrien, only to find him still fast asleep; he had stayed up long after she nodded off, rubbing her back comfortingly to help her relax. She sighed affectionately. She wouldn’t wake him up for something like this; she would have to be a terrible Ladybug to _not_ be able to handle whoever this was on her own! She lifted Adrien’s arm off her shoulder and slipped out of his bed. On her way out, she picked up Tikki and dropped her – still asleep – into a pocket of her pajamas.

“Shh!” someone was whispering. “Don’t wake them up. I swear, you’re louder than Daddy’s elephants!”

“Well, sorry I’m not a sneaky little fox, _Foxy_ ,” another voice retorted, slightly louder. “Are you going to tell me why you brought me _here_ yet?”

“And I wonder why the twins always wake up in the middle of the night when you’re over,” the first voice muttered.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. As she approached the voices, they sounded more and more familiar, but what were they doing in the mansion _now_?

“It’s not my fault those two are perpetual motion machines!” the second voice replied with a snort.

Marinette slipped into the shadows behind a life-sized statue of Himura Kenshin that Adrien had insisted on placing next to the office door. She’d hated the thing when he bought it – the burgundy kimono clashed with everything else in the entryway – but now she was grateful for the cover it provided. Rena Rouge ascended the stairs with someone Marinette didn’t recognize. The unknown person wore a dark bodysuit and helmet and was at least a head taller than Rena Rouge.

Relaxing on seeing her best friend, Marinette stepped out of the shadows and stage-whispered, “You shouldn’t go sneaking around people’s houses in the middle of the night; you could be taken for a fox burglar!”

Rena Rouge and her companion both jumped a foot in the air. “Gah!” Rena Rouge gasped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, girl! Shouldn’t you and Sunshine be asleep?”

“Yes, we should,” Marinette replied pointedly, folding her arms. “Mind telling me why I’m _not_?”

Rena Rouge held her hands up placatingly. “Sorry, girl,” she ruefully began, “I didn’t mean to wake you up. Or at least not yet. But this is something you needed to know about ASAP.”

“Okay…” Marinette raised an eyebrow and glanced at Rena Rouge’s silent companion.

“Right…” Rena Rouge muttered. She pointed at them in turn. “Marinette, you know Anansi; Anansi, you know Marinette…”

“Wait,” Marinette began, looking Anansi down in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. “Why did you bring her here in the middle of the night? And what on earth are you _wearing_???”

“It’s a body suit so people like you can’t recognize me,” Anansi retorted. “And I’d like to know what I’m doing at your boyfriend’s house in the middle of the night, too, _Foxy_.” She glared at Rena Rouge as she said the last word.

“I’m sure the bad guys are quite intimidated when they see you, Nora,” Marinette told her, raising an eyebrow, “but the colors… and that symbol… and the helmet… none of it exactly _matches_ …”

“What!” Anansi sputtered. “But I-It’s-I’m – I _like_ my bodysuit! I designed it myself!”

“I’m sure you did your best,” Marinette smirked, patting her arm condescendingly.

“Oh, no, Rainbows, you are _not_ giving me a redesign!” Anansi turned to Rena Rouge. “Is _that_ why you brought me to your friend’s house? Because Marinette here designs all the super-suits?”

Rena Rouge rolled her eyes and pushed the office door open. “Give me a _little_ more credit than that, A,” she called over her shoulder, leading them into the office. She walked up to the portrait of Emilie Agreste and pushed a few hidden buttons. “We’re here to talk business. And this does directly affect my girl here.”

Marinette grabbed a jacket off the desk and threw it over her pajamas before joining Rena Rouge and Anansi on the elevator disk for the short ride down to the Heroes’ Headquarters. She wasn’t sure how comfortable she felt about Alya deciding to show Anansi their headquarters in the dead of night, and without consulting her or Adrien in advance. But she trusted Alya; she had to have a good reason. She studied Anansi’s face carefully for a reaction as the elevator passed into the cavern and the overhead lights kicked on. Anansi’s jaw dropped as she took it all in. Her eye was immediately drawn to the oblong brown shape resting along one wall.

“Is… is that… _what_ is that?” Anansi breathed.

“Alien spaceship,” Marinette replied offhandedly. “Crash landed in a forest and we brought it back here.”

“And I’m supposed to just take your word for that, Pigtails?” Anansi asked dubiously.

“You sound like Plagg,” Marinette muttered. Louder she said, “You realize whose headquarters this is, right?”

“Right. Of _course_ you bunch would be hanging out with aliens, and of _course_ you’d find a way to fit a spaceship down this tube!” Anansi shook her head. She glanced over at Marinette. “I’m just assuming that you’re caught up in this somehow, considering you designed the Owl’s suit. And… you know… _this_ …”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Ohhh… so _you_ ’re the one the Owl’s been talking about for the last month!”

Rena Rouge rolled her eyes as the elevator disk receded into the turf. “Ladies,” she interrupted them, “could we get down to business? Before we have to leave for school in a couple hours?”

Marinette nodded and followed Rena Rouge toward the grotto.

Rena Rouge led them into a recessed alcove past the grotto before pulling out her flute. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring any of this to you sooner, Mar,” she confessed, frowning. “Anansi asked me to keep it under wraps while she continued investigating. She didn’t want any of us getting too close and alerting Lynchpin that we’re on to him.”

“Alerting who?” Marinette asked, furrowing her brow.

Rena Rouge withdrew a small metal object from her flute and handed it to her. Marinette rolled the lynchpin around in her palm for a minute before returning it to her, the same confused expression on her face.

“These have been popping up all over the city,” Rena Rouge explained, slamming the lynchpin into the cavern wall behind her. “A?”

Anansi stepped forward. “I found the first one back in December on a burglar. He said it came from an anonymous source: someone suggested that he rob an apartment in the 16th Arrondissement, and handed him the lynchpin. He couldn’t tell me anything about the person who gave it to him. Since then I’ve found them on dozens of criminals, everyone from purse snatchers to armed robbers. One was in the pocket of a guy overseeing a sweatshop producing knock-offs of a dress you designed.”

“ _That_ ’s where those fakes came from?” Marinette demanded, jaw dropped open in shock. “Our Paris distributors were _incensed_ by those! Our store alone lost out on a ton of sales on that dress! Why didn’t you mention this sooner? If we’d known maybe we could have done something about it.”

“Sorry, girl,” Rena Rouge admitted, “it didn’t even occur to me that you might do something about that dress situation. Isn’t that like free advertising or something?”

“Not exactly,” Marinette retorted. “It’s more like it splits our possible customers by undercutting our price.”

“Anyways,” Anansi continued, “there have been a whole bunch of criminals running around with these lynchpins: kidnappers, hit men, you name it. One of them broke into my parents’ apartment and tried to kill Alya and the twins.”

“I remember,” Marinette acknowledged darkly. “We were watching your family around-the-clock for a _week_ after that…”

“‘We’?” Anansi echoed. She gave Marinette a suspicious glance, shrugged, and continued, “The best we can guess, they are all working for one person.”

“The ‘Lynchpin’,” Rena Rouge supplied. She blew a note on her flute and cast the Mirage ball at the lynchpin she’d stuck in the wall. A series of glowing images appeared around the wall, connected together with lines and arrows, all expanding outward in a spider web pattern from the lynchpin.

Marinette stepped closer to examine the wall. She saw the knock-off dress. A network of drug dealers and arms dealers. An attempt to assassinate the deputy mayor. A guy wearing an all-too-familiar mechanized suit. And in one corner she saw – “The Heroes of Paris Fashion Show?” She looked up at Rena Rouge, shocked. “The Lynchpin was behind that, too? You knew?”

Rena Rouge shook her head. “I didn’t find that tidbit out until tonight,” she insisted with a nod toward Anansi. “But apparently Jagged Stone and the Owl recognized the boss man from that attack while they were out with Anansi.” She pointed at a headshot near the center of the map with a small network of lines extending from it, which Marinette recognized as the leader of the robbers who had attacked her fashion show in January.

“And neither of you bothered to share?” Marinette asked, glaring at Anansi, who shrugged.

Rena Rouge scoffed. “And that’s not the worst part of it. You want to know the worst part? This lynchpin” with the end of her flute she rapped the one she’d stuck in the wall “was in the pocket of your Monsieur Janet when I confronted him tonight.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped as the implications of that statement all crashed together in her mind. She felt like her heart had just stopped. She stared between the two sisters, waiting for one of them to laugh or say this was a joke. The ex-manager that Adrien had fired, who had been making her life a living hell for months, had been working with this Lynchpin. Janet had set Adrien up, had tried to set them against each other, had nearly split them up and ruined Adrien’s company and life! “When I get my hands on that no good, low life… I am going to tie him to the top of the Eiffel Tower and cover him in birdseed so the pigeons peck out his eyes!”

“Damn, girl! I never knew you had it in you…” Anansi shook her head admiringly.

“As much fun as that sounds,” Rena Rouge observed, “Lieutenant Raincomprix might not appreciate you doing that to his prime suspect. He’s been arrested, and Adrien is no longer a suspect in those questionable transactions.”

Marinette let out a breath in relief. “That’s good to hear,” she told them. “But why were you keeping all of this to yourselves??? At least three of these crimes directly targeted _me_! You should have told me what was going on! If we’d known about this Lynchpin guy, maybe we wouldn’t have been blindsided when he tried to get Adrien arrested! I didn’t know, and Lynchpin almost won!” Marinette looked at Rena Rouge sadly. “I thought you were my friend. I _trusted_ you.”

Rena Rouge’s lower lip trembled. “I know,” she finally admitted, looking down at the cave floor. “You have every right to be angry at me for not warning you. Even if we weren’t going to tell everyone else, _you_ ’re the leader, and I should have told you. I’m sorry, Mar.”

Marinette took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then she crossed the distance between them and pulled Rena Rouge into a bone-crunching hug. “I forgive you,” she said, her voice muffled by Rena Rouge’s hair. “You are my best friend, and you made things right tonight.” She leaned back and glared into her eyes. “But you need to let me know when something like this is happening. Got it?”

Rena Rouge nodded as her transformation wore off. “You got it, boss,” Alya smirked.

“I take it she already knew who you were?” Anansi observed, raising an eyebrow at Alya.

“You could say that…” Seeing Anansi’s confused look, Alya added, “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“ _Alya_.” Marinette halfheartedly elbowed her in the ribs but matched her smirk.

“If she’s going to be helping us with this Lynchpin investigation, she should probably join the Heroes of Paris, right?” Alya defended. She shrugged. “She’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Figure _what_ out?” Anansi demanded, looking between the two girls.

At that moment Marinette heard a familiar voice near the ceiling, shouting, “Hey, Spots! My kid is upstairs looking for you! Are you down here?” Plagg spotted the group and flew into the alcove. He landed on Marinette’s head and curled up on top of her head, emitting a low growl at Anansi.

Anansi looked at Plagg suspiciously before letting her eyes wander down to Marinette. “Wait… black Kwami… cat ears on its head… his ‘kid’ is upstairs and he calls you ‘Spots’… Oh, _hell_.”


	10. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Sabine sit the kids down for The Talk. They want to make sure they are "safe" so they don't have any "surprises."
> 
> Your mind probably went to the same place as Marinette's!

Sabine stuck her head through the hatchway to her daughter’s room to find the girl in question sitting in front of the sewing machine on her desk and humming contentedly while working on her latest project, with Adrien relaxing on the chaise lounge and watching her work. Sabine smiled approvingly on seeing the adoration in Adrien’s eyes. “So cute,” she sighed. She coughed loudly to get their attention, causing Adrien to jump to his feet and spin around, searching wildly for the source of the noise. She chuckled at seeing the way he looked up at the ceiling as though expecting the noise to have come from Marinette’s balcony – but, then, these two did seem to get a lot of use out of that roof hatch.

“Adrien, dear,” she finally called, drawing Adrien’s attention down to her. “If you can pull her away from her project for a little bit, Papa and I have something we need to discuss with the two of you.”

Adrien gulped nervously, but nodded before moving over to the desk and tapping on Marinette’s shoulder. Satisfied that they were coming, Sabine climbed down the stairs, shutting the hatch as she went, to find Tom sitting at the kitchen table and looking decidedly nervous. She poured four cups of tea, set them on the table, sat down next to Tom, and put her hand over his, squeezing it gently.

“Are you sure we should talk to them about this, dear?” Tom asked, frowning. “We know it’s going on, and we know they’re being as careful as they can be… isn’t that enough?”

“Of course they’re being careful, dear,” Sabine agreed, taking a sip of her tea. “And we’ve been supporting them as best we could this year. But they are growing up, and they need to know they can talk to us about this. Everything I’ve seen and heard about Adrien’s father, that boy never received the support or advice he needed. He certainly wasn’t a good role model!” She shook her head in frustration. She’d suspected Gabriel Agreste of being a poor parent since the first time Marinette told her that he had prevented Adrien from spending time with his friends, but she had not realized how bad it had been until Adrien was practically living under her roof, throwing out tidbits of his childhood as though it were normal for a father to require scheduled appointments from his six-year-old.

Tom was about to respond when Marinette’s bedroom hatch opened and she came into view, followed immediately by Adrien. The teens sat down in their accustomed seats next to each other, across from the adults. Sabine’s smile widened fractionally as Marinette leaned toward Adrien subconsciously.

“You wanted to talk with us, Mama?” Marinette asked, looking at her with interest and taking a sip of her tea. Beside her, Adrien shifted uncomfortably.

“Relax, Adrien, son,” Tom said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not in _trouble_ or anything!”

“Sorry,” Adrien apologized, running a hand through his hair with a grimace. “It’s just… whenever my _father_ would set an appointment for a talk… it meant I’d disappointed him in some way.” Marinette squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Sabine frowned. “That _man_ was a poor excuse for a father, dear,” she told him heatedly. “You shouldn’t feel like you are in trouble any time an adult wants to talk to you. I am sorry if we’ve ever given that impression.”

Adrien’s eyes shot wide open. “Oh, no, you never have! I just…”

Tom gently let him off the hook. “The reason we wanted to talk is not because you are in trouble, but because this is a serious topic we need to discuss with you. We are proud, of course. We are happy for you both, of course. But we want to make sure you are safe, too, especially since you are still children.”

Marinette blushed furiously. “Mama! Papa!” she yelped, pushing herself away from Adrien and slamming her teacup on the table. “I don’t know what you _think_ but we’re not – we’re not – _sleeping together_!”

Adrien and Tom both choked on their tea and turned matching shades of crimson. Marinette buried her face in her hands and moaned in embarrassment. Sabine calmly sipped her tea, smiled serenely, and waited for the rest of her family to recover. Marinette was the first one to look up at her, and Sabine simply arched an eyebrow and smiled.

“Well we’re _not_ ,” Marinette repeated stubbornly, glaring at her in a way that dared her to contradict the statement.

Sabine chuckled. “Well, I suppose it depends on your definition of ‘sleeping together,’” she conceded, ignoring the strangled noises Tom was making next to her. “But I’ve come upstairs to check on you in the middle of the night to find your bed empty – or find Adrien in your bed – often enough to know you occasionally share a bed, either here or at his mansion.”

Marinette blushed a brighter shade of red. Adrien’s face had gone the opposite direction and become whiter than his shirt. Tom was gaping at the three of them in surprise. On seeing how nervous Adrien looked, however, Tom burst out laughing and slammed his massive fist on the table, which made Adrien’s teacup jump and his eyes grow even wider in fear.

“Please, son,” Tom began, “you’re not still holding that whole ‘Weredad’ incident against me, are you?” He wiped a tear from his eye. “That was one time, and it all got sorted out in the end.”

“And there’s no way that Impératrice Pourpre would let you reprise that,” Adrien agreed. He grinned nervously. “The thing is… I’m not sure you couldn’t rip my arms off _without_ being Akumatized!”

Marinette gave Adrien and Tom a funny look before confessing, “Okay, so I’ve gone over to his house a couple times because of nightmares. He’s come here in the middle of the night because of nightmares, too. But that’s _it_! It’s never gone past that!”

Sabine squeezed Tom’s hand to silence his rejoinder. “And that’s not a problem,” she assured them. “I’m sure you have more than enough reasons to have nightmares and need each other’s comfort. I trust you that you wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted.

“And knowing you both, you are waiting for marriage.”

“Yes!”

“And whenever you are out in public you are behaving perfectly decently for teenagers in love.”

“Absolutely.”

“And whenever you’re suited up there’s no chance of anything inappropriate, since Miraculous suits can’t come off.”

“Right!” Marinette agreed. Then she stopped, and Sabine saw the exact moment that Marinette realized what she had said. Marinette’s jaw dropped open and her eyes bugged out of their sockets. She looked like she was trying to say something, but only managed to make tiny peeping noises.

Sabine smiled impishly at her while sipping her tea, waiting for Marinette to respond. Around the table, Tom looked like he was trying (and failing) to stifle a grin. Adrien for his part simply looked relieved. How long had these children been keeping this secret and trying not to collapse under its weight?

“How… how did you know?” Marinette finally whispered, looking at her with a mixture of shock, worry, and wonder. “I thought I was so careful…”

“You were, dear,” Sabine told her kindly, reaching across the table and squeezing Marinette’s hand affectionately. “But don’t forget: I’m your mother, and I know you. Last summer when Chloe came to stay with us for a month and suddenly the two of you and Alya were thick as thieves? And then you stopped by to introduce Adrien as your new boyfriend hours after Ladybug and her team arrested his father – after you were missing for the duration of that fight? Suddenly the two of you are dating and flirting and teasing like you’ve been together for years, after you had been so nervous you couldn’t even talk around him at the beginning of the summer? Adrien himself reacted to his father’s unmasking as Hawk Moth far better than anyone would have expected, didn’t even bat an eye at replacing that man with us.” Sabine smiled. “It didn’t take too much for us to put things together from there.”

“And we couldn’t be prouder of you, Marinette,” Tom added warmly. “Of both of you,” he amended, squeezing Adrien’s shoulder.

“You saved this city from disaster so many times over those two years of fighting Hawk Moth,” Sabine continued. “Even when it was hard, even when it seemed impossible, you found a way to keep going. Even though Hawk Moth was someone so important to you” she looked at Adrien with motherly love “you did the right thing: you brought him to justice.”

Adrien looked troubled at that. Sabine moved her hand on top of the teens’ clasped hands and squeezed. “We are so very proud of you both.”

“This is not just about Hawk Moth,” Tom supplied. “You’ve done so much good since defeating him. And not just as heroes, either. You have both become such wonderful young people. Any father would be proud to call you his child – both of you.”

By now Marinette looked close to tears, but Sabine recognized them as tears of happiness and relief. “You have no idea what this means,” Marinette choked out. “To know that you know, and you’re not upset or angry or…”

Sabine reached up to wipe away Marinette’s tears. “We certainly worry about you,” she admitted. “When we saw on the news that you’d been shot… if you hadn’t come straight home I might have marched right over to the lycée and insisted on seeing you for myself!”

“That’s why you didn’t ask any questions,” Marinette stated, nodding in understanding. “You knew exactly what had happened.”

“Enough of it, at least,” Sabine confirmed. “But that was the first indication we had that your suit is bulletproof.”

“Not exactly _bulletproof_ ,” Marinette explained. She winced. “Miraculous suits can only be cut or pierced by miraculous weapons. So the bullets couldn’t go through my suit, but I still felt the impacts.”

“That’s where the nightmares come from?” Tom asked, looking between them.

“Some of them,” Adrien agreed with a nod.

Tom nodded and looked Adrien in the eye. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me,” he told him.

“So you’ve known all this time?” Marinette finally asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“We were waiting for you to tell us yourself,” Sabine explained. “But now that you are getting older – seventeen next week! – we didn’t want to wait any longer. We want you to know you can talk to us about anything.” Sabine smiled mischievously. “But we did drop some hints here and there.”

“How did we never realize?” Marinette wondered, glancing at Adrien. Only to narrow her eyes at him suspiciously when she saw the nervous grin on his face. “We _didn’t_ realize, did we?” she asked him dangerously.

“Ummm… so you know how your father started experimenting with camembert macaroons last year?” Adrien started.

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “You mean those things were _Plagg_ ’s idea??? Stinky cheese in a sweet macaroon is absolutely _disgusting_!”

Adrien opened his mouth to respond, but before he could make a sound a small black blob with cat ears appeared out of Adrien’s shirt pocket, puffed up its chest and said, “‘Disgusting’? Pigtails, I’ll have you know that the man who can make such a delicious camembert macaroon is the most incredible chef in the history of cheese. And I should know!”

Marinette scoffed, but was cut off from responding when a red blob shot out of her purse, slammed into the black blob, and squeaked, “Cheese does not belong in macaroons, you stinky cat!”

Sabine’s jaw dropped open as she watched the display. Beside her she could see Tom mirroring her expression. When she finally found her voice again, she asked, “Um… what are those? They’re… kind of cute…”

Adrien groaned and swiped the black blob out of midair with practiced ease. “These are our Kwamis, the sources of the miraculous’ power. This is Plagg, the embodiment of destruction, destroyer of the dinosaurs, Atlantis, Pompeii, and about 15 wheels of camembert per meal. The red one is Tikki, who is the Kwami of Creation. She may or may not ‘create’ plagues when she’s feeling particularly angry.”

“So you carry the embodiment of destruction around in your pocket,” Tom deadpanned. He rolled his eyes. “Just don’t let him get near that wedding cake I made for tomorrow.”

“As long as it’s not a cheesecake, we should be fine!” Adrien joked.

With a chuckle Tom commented, “I guess this explains why our cheese bill went up _cat_ -astrophically when you moved in!”

“You have no idea,” Adrien replied. “Nothing less than the most expensive – and stinkiest – cheese on the planet is _Gouda_ -nough for him!”

Sabine smiled at the teens and their Kwamis across the table from her. To think: Ladybug, the brave, fearless hero of Paris, was her clever, sweet daughter. And the polite, reserved boy sitting next to her was the carefree Cat Noir. She looked between Adrien and Marinette for a moment before saying, “I hope you know that we want to help – as much as we can. We’re not superheroes; we’re just your parents. Without Hawk Moth and the daily Akuma battles, I can’t imagine you are missing as much school as you did before, but we will cover for you if you need to go off and do hero things. And of course feed your… Kwamis. But in turn, I have two ground rules for you.”

“‘Ground rules’?” Marinette echoed, furrowing her brow.

Sabine nodded. “First, tell us what you are up to – as much as you can, at least – so we don’t worry,” she said. “I always find out after the fact from photos on the Ladyblog when you were on… ‘patrol,’ do you call it? I’d appreciate if you let me know beforehand so I’m not worried when you aren’t in bed. Or so I worry _correctly_ ,” she amended with a gentle smile.

Marinette nodded. “I suppose we can do that much,” she conceded. “But what’s the second one?”

Sabine looked her in the eye, willing her to feel her motherly concern. “Stay safe,” she said, “and always come home.”

Marinette and Adrien shared a look before Marinette answered, “We promise.”


End file.
